A Love Letter History.

Dear 28.

Dear 28,
I'll only be writing you this one last time. Tomorrow I start dedicating my letters and my new list to a new year: 29. This practice, the list making, has pushed me to learn all kinds of new things. Back when I made my list for year 23 (the first birthday I celebrated here in Des Moines), I had far different goals.

There are many things on this list I've since accomplished ("Learn the streets of downtown Des Moines" makes me laugh) and there are things on this list I wouldn't dream of doing these days (Tonic? Really 23-year-old LP? Tonic?) In year 28 I might not have scratched off each number on the list, but I sure enjoyed these last twelve months. Like in year 27, this blog (and all of you) pushed me to do some things I didn't think I could, to celebrate some things that might have gone unnoticed and to ask so many questions about everything. I learned a lot-- more about myself than anything else.

I made pasta with a real Italian chef and snuck wine into the Meredith test gardens. I went to prom again. I performed in a band (and then spoke of my tambourine prowess for many months after). I worked out with MMA fighters. I had all three of my beautiful sisters in Des Moines. I moved to a new and improved home where I can use a dishwasher, run central air and stoop. I met Ron, the Red Velvet girls and shared fried chicken with my dear friend. I learned a truly invaluable skill: the Lidgett pose.

I slow danced in a townie bar. I joined a cover band that has since performed thrice-ish. I learned the definition of magic from a bartender. I slept on a riverboat after being rocked by the Head and the Heart. Good golly I got a new car. I fell in love with September and cursed March. I had an art show. I wore a crown more than once. I met four artists who showed their work at the Des Moines Art Center. I rewrote an Adele song while wearing a pizza beret. I made Coq Au Vin. I saw Chicago from the Hancock Building.

I went on a hike. I watched Nebraska beat my Hawks. I ran two races without being chased. I drew naked people. I was on the front page of the Des Moines Register. I met a bunch of new and incredible people. I danced. I danced a lot. I cooked my first turkey (that I won in my first euchre tournament). I was introduced to the Bertha Butt Boogie. I took a lot of B12. I sold over 650 postcards.
This list would have shocked my 23-year-old self... or exhausted me. But today it makes me proud.
Thanks for being part of what turned out to be a pretty spectacular year. 28 was really great.
xo-LP